Harry Potter and the Truths Revealed
by Muggleborn-Prince
Summary: Harry goes to the Dursley's after Sirius dies, and thinks about his life. He looks at what has happened and finds the truths from within himself and a very unexpected person. Manipulative Dumbledore. Traitorous Weasleys. TEMPORARY HIATUS CONT. February 08
1. Prolouge

Disclaimer: We do not own this, we are simply two young idiots that have a great fear of lawyers. So no suing

Dumbledore sat in his office thinking. He often did this, since his war with Grindelwald. Which in retrospect hadn't been a war, Grindelwald had just decided that muggles were obsolete and should be exterminated. He had several supporters and they, foolish misguided men had marched down muggle streets blasting them with dark spells. Dumbledore and a few other wizards had stopped them in three weeks, but the now everyone looked back on it as if it had been a three year war in which there were millions of casualties. These things happened long ago, and were not of the old mans contemplations that morning. No, today he was thinking of a young boy; Harry Potter.

Harry had been a cause of mystery for him. First he had been the child of the prophecy then when Dumbledore, in an attempt to get rid of the boy, sent the one that supposedly could kill him directly to his house. Alas, Voldemort failed to kill him, another plan foiled. With the boy alive, Dumbledore could not kill Harry, or Voldemort. So Dumbledore had become the Potter's secret keeper, just to kill them. It was a very clever plan, using Voldemort to kill Harry, just so he could kill Voldemort, too bad it failed.

'The plan failed,' he thought bitterly. 'I would have been rid of both!'

'Now,' thought Dumbledore, 'I must let the brat stay at the muggle's, so that he will be submissive to me! He must be trained. Not enough to survive, no, but just enough, just enough that, when he left, he would take Voldemort with him.'

Dumbledore had it all planned out, but not the blood protections, no. He would be the Potter's secret-keeper, give the information to the Dark Lord, and blame it on Pettigrew. He laughed to himself. But it was not Peter that had taken the blame. It had been Black.

Nobody even thought that the great Albus Dumbledore would have done that to the Potter's. They found blame in Black. But when Black had died, so did the thought that he would do such a thing. Why would the supposed Lieutenant in the Dark Lord's army fight against his own?

This, they had no answer to. Could it be that Pettigrew had lived? They knew not, and Dumbledore cared not what they thought. All he cared about was getting rid of his two threats. Tom Riddle was once a great boy, once human. He was everything everyone wanted to be. They did not see past his charming nature.

The fools of the world thought that he would grow to be a very powerful wizard. He showed the promise to become as powerful, if not stronger, than Dumbledore himself. Dumbledore knew that Tom Riddle _would_ grow to be even more powerful than himself. That was why he put those restraints on his magic.

But now, Tom Riddle was something new, something vulgar and evil. He was no longer human. He was no longer himself. He was not Tom Riddle anymore. He had become Lord Voldemort, Heir of Slytherin. 'Now,' Dumbledore though, 'I must rid myself of another threat.'

Harry Potter would be even more powerful than Merlin. That would mean that Dumbledore would be nothing compared to him. Dumbledore shuddered at the thought of not being the strongest wizard in the world. He loved his magic, his power. He wanted everyone to be in awe of him, not some little boy.

'I will rid myself of these nuisances, and all will be fine again,' he thought with finality, turning, at long last, to his bed.


	2. Realizations and Breakaways

Chapter Two: Realizations and Breakaways

Harry sat next to Dudley's hulking form in the backseat of his relative's car,

slumped in defeat. Underneath the defeat was anger, but he kept it under control from years of practice. Even deeper under that, he was in deep thought. He thought of his life, and the _coincidental_ problems in it.

He knew that there had to be something wrong. In the supposed safest place in the world (Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry) his life had been threatened there not once, not twice, but five times; not only was this supposed to be the safest place in the world, but under the care of the best wizard since Merlin.

Then the car hit a speed bump and the small jarring of the automobile seemed to jar Harry's brain to the one and only conclusion: Dumbledore, who was supposedly the beacon of the light, was trying to kill him, or at the very least putting him in the most dangerous situations possible then claiming wanting him to have a normal youth

"_Normal youth my ass," _Harry raged silently "_locked in a fucking cupboard my whole life, then taken to a safety haven, ran by the greatest wizard of all time. Yet, still I had to face the darkest wizard in the world while I was only eleven. Psh, I'm the embodiment of normal. _

Harry was quite angry now. He turned every experience he had ever had under Dumbledore's watchful eye into anger. The terror of facing a giant snake, the bone chilling fear and hopelessness of one hundred dementors swooping down on him, the anger of watching each of his friends get struck down and tortured by Death Eaters at the Department of Mysteries last year, the heart wrenching feeling of watching the closest thing to a father fall to his death. Harry winced. The death of Sirius still bit at his heart.

Then the car bumped onto the driveway of Number Four Privet Drive and Harry awoke from his silent rage and leapt from the car before it had stopped moving. Opened the boot and dragged his trunk from the boot of the car with one hand, bringing the cage out with the other. He silently drug his trunk into the house kicking shut the door.

"Don't slam the door like that in my house boy," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"What ever," Harry muttered.

"Don't talk to your Aunt that way you worthless little rat!" roared his walrus-like Uncle.

"Better a rat than a Walrus, big boy," Harry retorted, not quite knowing why he was asking for a beating.

His Uncle, seeming to ignore his comment, continued, a bit quieter. "If you EVER, and I mean EVER tell them we are mistreating you again, I will personally show you mistreatment. You will also write to them every three days telling them you are JUST fine!" He finished in a yell storming off, while Harry shot him a glare and pulled his trunk up the stairs to his room.

"_You killed them Peter, you betrayed Lily and James to Him! To Voldemort. You are a slimy vile, and cruel pathetic little rat that needs squashing. Don't worry YOU WILL DIE PETER!" Sirius Black roared._ Peter Pettigrew looked on as he and his best friend fought. It was like a pensive memory. He could see himself, several years younger, and his best friend.

"_YOU KILLED THEM SIRIUS!" _He saw himself squeal before blasting the whole street up and transforming quickly. "What," He said unheard by the inhabitants of the memory from long-ago. "I never did that, did I? I never betrayed Lily, or James." Then the setting changed. The memory flashed showing him scenes of himself being subjected to imperious curses, mind control potions, memory charms, and mind wiping legimency sessions. "I have been robbed. Robbed of my life by these slimy Death Eaters." He yelled at a oblivious memory form of Lucius Malfoy cursing him.

At that moment Peter Pettigrew woke from his dream-like state gasping and drenched in cold bitter sweat. With a look of disgust on his face he crawled from the floor. "_No only do they mind fuck me on a daily basis they make me sleep in the damn cellar." _ He glowered silently.

He pulled his fist back and smashed it into the window, sending the glass cascading onto the ground outside. He transformed into his rodent form and hopped over the glass. _I've got to find, Remus, Harry, and Sirius,_ He decided unanimously.

Remus awoke from lycanthropy induced slumber and rolled out of is closet. He had it charmed to unlock when the sun comes up and too be inescapable during the night. It was very handy on nights when he was late and couldn't throw up any other charms. Such as nights like the last. He had spent it drinking, slurping down shots of fire whiskey just so he couldn't feel the heart ache of losing his best friend. Now he had a stomachache and a headache, not to mention the sorrow of losing his best friend.

Remus stood to walk and nearly fell from the twanging pain in his head that came every time he moved to fast, or even heard a loud noise. _"This is what I get from drinking a case full of Firewhiskey, hell not even alcoholics drink that much firewhiskey its too strong." _He thought bitterly. He yawned and sparks were hurled from his throat. He looked around his living room at the charred carpet. _"Next time I'll grab a bucket to puke in so I don't set the house on fire." _ He thought absently

Twenty minutes later he sat at his kitchen table drinking his hang over potion. He was quite used to the bitter taste. During the first war it seemed to be the only thing he drank besides firewhiskey. He had often carried a flask of the dirt tasting potion around with him so if he ever got wasted in a bar.

He would have drank himself to death after Lily and James were killed and Sirius shipped to Azkaban and Peter nowhere to be found if not for two people. One of these was Harry Potter. The uncley urge to see the boy and to help him was overwhelming. The only other person keeping him from being suicidal was; Albus Dumbledore the first human to show kindness to him besides his parents. He had allowed him to go to Hogwarts despite his lycanthropy then plenty of help after the first war. He had given Remus money, food, and a place to stay, it had helped him greatly through hard times. The only thing Remus had ever hated Dumbledore for is his lack of letting him contact Harry Potter, the last line to his dead friends.

But Remus couldn't hate the guy for that. So he convinced himself that Dumbledore had reasons that he couldn't tell him regarding Harry. So he just spent his years scrounging for money, living in slums. Fighting werewolf laws, and being subjected to numerous and painful lycanthrope transformations.

Then the year came when Harry went to Hogwarts, and he could ask a few teachers how he was doing, or ask Dumbledore himself. After he heard about Harry's incident with Quirrel it was already the summer holidays, but that didn't stop him from charging up to the school and demanding that Harry come to his custody so as for him not to come to any harm. Alas, Albus Dumbledore convinced him yet again that it was best for the boy to continue the way he was.

The next year however Remus couldn't be stopped. He demanded some time with Harry over the next year. And after many arguments they came to the decision of Remus teaching, to keep an eye on Harry. He enjoyed all his time with Harry and loved teaching him. His heart also twanged in pain because of how much he looked like James. Then when his old friend Sirius Black escaped he knew that he would be after Harry so he was keeping extra eye on Harry and some of the old secret passageways so his friend could not get to Harry. Alas his efforts failed, but for the good, because he was reunited with his best friend and found out the truth.

The year following he had spent in hiding with his best friend, then Harry was entered in the Tri Wizard tournament, and they came back to England. Remus went to his house, and Sirius stayed in a cave near Hogsmeade. Soon Harry had faced Voldemort yet again in his young life and Remus, now with the help of his friend, protested angrily of Harry's going back to the muggles. Yet Dumbledore had convinced them both that he was going to the muggles whether either of them liked it.

Soon though they were all reunited for a short bit of summer in the dreary house of Sirius' parents seeing in the house that his adoptive brother was raised in shocked him a bit. Then he thought of the snobby little first year who hated his older cousin Bellatrix because his mother had deemed her his ward for the year. He had come a long way from being such a brat. Now the once snob, then best friend, was dead.

It hurt him much more than he would have thought possible. He knew eventually one grows old and all his friends die off but he was still young, just entering his forties, though he looked older because of his lycanthropy. It was still far too young an age for his friends to start dying off left and right.

Remus sighed. He, was too tired to do any more thinking, so he walked to his room and fell to the bed, snoring loudly.


End file.
